Remission
by NoWayWithWords
Summary: A middle-aged Bella reflects on her life after Edward leaves. Does time really heal all wounds? AU-New Moon. RE-EDIT/RE-POST
1. Chapter 1 Remission

**Standard Disclaimer: ** The world of Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

_For Mom, I love you, and I miss you._

* * *

**Remission**

It's been twenty-six years since my very existence was shattered by a beautiful boy who completely owned my heart, my soul, my hope and my love.

He told me he was leaving, that he didn't want me to go with him. I had managed to string together words to form a sentence that made no sense to me, "_You… don't… want… me?_"

His honey-colored eyes, once so warm and loving, were now cold and distant as he regarded me with indifference. With his answer, one simple word, "_No,_" my world came crashing down around me.

He used to tell me how much he loved me, that I was his life. I wanted to stay with him forever, literally. More than anything, I wanted him to make me like him, but he always refused. Now I understand why he didn't want to change me. It made sense that he didn't love me. It had just taken him a while to realize how insignificant I was when compared to him.

He promised me peace without reminders - that my life would continue as if _he_ had never existed. _He_ _lied_. Twenty-six years have passed by since _he_ left me, and not one single day of those twenty-six years has gone without thoughts of _him_… and I know _he_ has never given me a second thought.

It was so hard at first; I couldn't even pick up the fragments of my heart and soul. Love, life, meaning, it was all so far beyond my reach without _him_ there to hold me together. Discarded, left behind and forgotten. I missed _him_ so much, and _his_ family that I had grown to think of as my own - it hurt to even breathe.

Months drifted by in a gray haze. I went through the motions to keep my dad, Charlie, from sending me to live with my mom, Renee, in the perpetual sunshine of Jacksonville. I couldn't bring myself to leave the cool, lush dampness of Forks; I had to stay in the last place where I knew _he_ had been.

I eventually realized that if I was doing something reckless or stupid, I could hear _his_ voice telling me not to, trying to keep me safe, as he had always done when we were together. I guess I really was losing my mind – as if he actually cared. One of those attempts brought me to Jacob.

While driving my ancient red truck aimlessly through Forks one evening, I found two old motorcycles left on the curb to be picked up with the trash - inspiration struck! I could take them to Jacob to repair. What could be more reckless or stupid than for me to ride a motorcycle?

Sweet Jacob, my best friend, tried so valiantly to put the jagged pieces of my heart back together; but like shards of shattered glass… my heart could never be pieced back together. Spending time with Jacob helped me survive the darkest days of my life – he was warmth, my own personal sun. He wanted so much for us to be more than friends. But I couldn't give him the remnants of my fractured heart, I just couldn't.

It was through my final encounter with a vampire that I found out that Jacob was a werewolf. Foolishly believing I would hear _his_ voice again in the place that was ours alone, I found my way back to the beautiful meadow that I had once shared with _him._ To my surprise, I was approached by Laurent, one of the three nomadic vampires that _his_ family had tried to protect me from in the past. The Cu… _they_ had killed his coven leader, James, but James' mate, Victoria, had escaped.

I was happy at first to see Laurent, proving to me that my experiences with _him_ and the rest of _his_ family were not a figment of my imagination. Laurent had gone to Denali, Alaska to meet _his_ "cousins," another group of golden-eyed vampires that existed on the blood of animals. I knew immediately when I saw Laurent's sinister burgundy eyes that he wasn't following the Denali's diet. He had been sent by Victoria to check on me, since she planned to kill me as revenge for her mate. "A mate for a mate," Laurent explained.

Ha! If they only knew how wrong they were. I was not _his_ mate. I had only been a temporary distraction for _him_. _He_ made it crystal clear that I was nothing to _him_ when _he_ left me.

Laurent humanely decided to make a quick meal out of me rather than let Victoria torture me slowly and painfully, but several giant wolves suddenly appeared from the woods and chased him away. One of the wolves seemed hauntingly familiar as it passed; it paused momentarily and gave me a look that was almost human. It resembled the reddish-brown wolf I had dreamed of the night Jacob told me that _he_ was a vampire, even though Jacob had laughed the story as a tribal myth at the time.

After that incident, Jacob began avoiding me, and although it was a tiny fraction of the pain of _him_ leaving me, it still hurt. I finally confronted Jacob to find out what was wrong. He was forbidden by his Alpha, Sam, to explicitly reveal his secret; instead, he asked me to remember the legend he had told me about his tribe, the Quileute. It took me a while to recall that he'd said his people were descended from wolves, but when I did, I realized that my sweet Jacob had become a werewolf!

At first I thought he and his pack were killing humans, but when he assured me that their only purpose is to protect people from vampires, it dawned on me that vampires were responsible for the recent deaths in the area. _Victoria…_ _No!_

Jacob reassured me that the pack would take care of Victoria, just like they got rid of Laurent. They "patrolled" constantly, and I ended up seeing very little of Jacob. Bored out of my mind, I decided to occupy myself by cliff-jumping. I had seen the Quileute boys laughing hysterically as they hurled themselves off the top precipice, plummeting down toward the ocean waves below. Surely I would hear _him_ again if I jumped off a cliff.

As it was, I nearly ended up killing myself when I plunged in the rough water, caught by the current and unable to find my way to the surface. I heard _his_ velvet voice desperately urging me to swim to the surface. I was ready to give in and let the water take me, because I not only heard _him_, but I actually saw _him_. For the first time since _he_ left me, I felt happiness there with _his_ phantom, as I sank further into the dark water. Unfortunately, the next thing I felt was Jacob pounding the water out of my lungs after he pulled me from the murky depths and dragged me onto the shore.

That was the same day Harry Clearwater, one of Charlie's best friends, died from a heart attack. It certainly changed my perspective on my foolish behavior.

I never did hear _his_ voice again after that day.

A few weeks later, there was a huge commotion in the woods behind my house, and before I could process what was happening, Jacob had jumped through my window and abducted me from my room. He ran with me in his arms all the way to First Beach, where the pack was celebrating the end of Victoria. They had finally caught her and were burning her remains in a giant bonfire.

Jacob's warm arms around me felt comforting, but so different from the cold that I craved with every molecule of my being. He took my chin in his hand and slowly leaned toward me, but I stopped him before his lips reached mine.

I wouldn't let myself be ripped apart again. If I had chosen to stay with Jacob, I would have lived every single day in fear that it would be the last day he truly loved me. I had learned that the Quileute wolves found their soul mates through "imprinting," an involuntary and irreversible process. One day, they would see their imprint and the universe suddenly revolves around that person. The threat of Jacob imprinting on someone else would always hang over our heads, and I knew I wouldn't survive losing what little of my heart was left.

I'd seen it firsthand.

I watched Leah Clearwater, Harry's daughter, die a little each day after the love of her life, Sam, imprinted on her cousin Emily. Sam and Leah had been together through most of high school, and everyone knew they would eventually marry. They were perfect together. Then one night when Emily was visiting, Sam took one look at her and forgot that Leah existed. It reminded me so much of that day in the woods, when _he_ left and my world came crashing to its end… In a way I think it was worse for her because she had to see him all the time, see the light in his eyes as they shone only for Emily. Maybe I was lucky after all that I never had to see _him_ looking at someone else with such love in _his_ eyes - truly that would be the death of me.

Eventually high school ended and I went on to complete college, establish a career, marry, all in accordance with the plan for my life before _he_ entered it and turned my world upside down.

I came out of my shell in college – went to parties, drank too much, made alcohol-fueled decisions – for all intents and purposes, I was an ordinary student without a care in the world. I tried to forget. I wanted to be rid of _his_ ghost and the memories, to exorcise the demons of my past.

It never worked.

After college, a job opportunity came up that took me far away from the cold and rain of Forks to the heat and humidity of the Gulf Coast. It is there that I met the man who would become my husband. I never told him about the love of my life; it was my secret to keep for the rest of my days. We eventually married and had two beautiful sons who bring endless joy and happiness to everyone around them. I watched them grow and succeed, loved by family and friends, and my heart swells with gratitude to have been blessed with them.

Those looking in from the outside see my life as happy. I keep my thoughts and feelings about _him_ buried deep inside. I have a wonderful husband, beautiful kids, and a great career. And I love them, truly I do. But I wish I didn't have this dark place in my heart, eating away at my soul like a cancer, day after day, night after night.

I pray every night that I will sleep without dreaming. I pray that I won't be woken up by my own cries, gasping for breath because I dreamed of _him_, feeling _him_ slip from my arms as I fall into a void that can never be filled. Thank God that I outgrew my sleep-talking; my husband will never know what haunts my dreams. I've tried to forget, to put _him_ behind me, to excise my memories as cleanly as _he_ surgically removed me from _his_ life.

The days go by, bringing about slow changes in my reflection in the mirror. First a few grays appeared in my plain brown hair, then many, conveniently defeated by my hairstylist. Now when I face the mirror, I see the little lines forming around my eyes, mouth, and forehead, destined to grow wider and deeper with the inevitable passage of time.

My once-long hair is now short, my body softer and curvier, although I work hard to stay fit. I wonder if _he_ would even recognize me if _he_ saw me – probably not. I would recognize _him_, though, in a heartbeat. I don't know if I could handle seeing _his _beautiful, unchanged face, _his_ carved marble seventeen year-old's body that would make my heart skip beats. No, it is unlikely that I will ever see _him_ again, and it would absolutely destroy me to see _him_ with someone else. It's really better this way.

My oldest son is seventeen now, with a girlfriend of his own, and I constantly warn him not to break any hearts. Although he will never know the reason, I think that he understands the message.

I try to make it through the days without thinking of _him_, but there are always reminders to break my resolve. _He_ haunts me everywhere. I'll hear a song we used to sing along to - now that I can finally listen to music again without falling apart – and find myself caught in the memory of us sitting at _his_ piano as _he_ played for me. It might be a character on TV or in the movies, the profile of a nearby commuter on the freeway, something about somebody's eyes, or their nose, or the way they carry themselves. Although nobody can even come close to matching _his_ hair – that glorious riot of unruly bronze hair that I sometimes had to sit on my hands to resist the urge to just reach out and touch, run my fingers through, bury my face in to inhale _his_ unique sweet scent…

I can look back now and be grateful for the little time that I was given, sharing my life with the beautiful boy. _He_ touched my heart and my soul with love, with beauty, and music so sweet and pure that it made me cry. I only wish I could have been good enough for _him_, enough to be able to keep _him…_ that _he_ would want to keep _me_.

What do I do? How do I heal this gaping hole that grows deeper every minute of every day? I want to move on – I _have_ to move on. I can't keep going like this. Eventually someone will see through my façade.

I want to place an eviction notice on my run-down heart, declare that _he_ no longer has a place within.

I want this aching soul cancer to be in remission. _Please_ make it go away, make it stop… It still _hurts_.

_Why was I not enough?_

Even if I could somehow manage to keep _him_ out of my mind for the rest of my life, _he_ will never be out of my heart. I know that when I close my eyes for the last time, it will be _his _beautiful face I see, and with my last breath, my soul will whisper, "_I love you,_ _Edward_."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This was my first attempt at fanfiction, which I posted un-beta'd in 2009 on the Fanfiction site as a one-shot that ended up completed over three years with three chapters. This is the first of the three chapters that I have updated and edited, and this time I've run it through my betas, A Little Distracted and FangMom this time around. I even had a dear friend of mine, an English major who graduated with honors, review and comment on it so I could post this knowing that it was the best I could make it. I will be forever grateful for their friendship and their input.

Chapter songs: "Missing" and "My Immortal" by Evanescence. Remission playlist is available on YouTube under NoWayWithWords.

My mom recently passed away after her own long battle with cancer. She was a published author, and a much better writer than I will ever be. She inspired me to always believe in myself, and I wanted to post this in her memory.


	2. Chapter 2 Metastasis

**Standard Disclaimer: ** The world of Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

_For Mom, I love you, and I miss you._

* * *

**Remission - Chapter Two - Metastasis**

"…stage four cancer. I'm so sorry," my doctor says quietly.

Not exactly the words I was expecting to hear two days before my 52nd birthday. Words including "metastatic," "aggressive," "poor prognosis," "limited treatment options," and "palliative care," that are now colliding in my head, leaving me dizzy and disoriented.

My husband squeezes my hand tightly, choking back a sob. He's a good man; somewhere deep inside I wish I had been able to give him more of myself. I'd given him everything I had left.

We'd had almost twenty-five years together. There were joyous times, the births of our two sons – watching them grow and flourish, becoming the wonderful men I always knew they would be. There were dark, bleak times as well, when we'd let life's little insignificances drive a wedge between us. Through it all we fought to overcome the obstacles, and in the end we were content and comfortable with one another.

Our boys are grown now. The youngest is nearly through college and our oldest is recently married and starting a family of his own. I am so proud of them. They have so much to give… such kind, generous hearts, and I know that the world will be a better place because of them.

I've worked hard to be a good wife, good mother, and good employee. Now I have to consider the choices ahead. The cancer has spread like wildfire into my lungs, my liver, and my bones. There is no treatment that can save me, only prolong the agony longer. I'm tired of struggling to survive; I just want to rest now.

I tell my family that I don't want to undergo any treatments. When my time comes to an end, I will go with all the dignity I have left.

I think back to all the times I'd delayed getting my annual mammogram. I was always too busy with the kids, with work, with whatever excuses I could come up with to avoid the unpleasantness of smashing my boobs between cold metal plates. My conscience whispers in a tiny voice that perhaps I had skipped the exams on purpose.

The image in the mirror glares at me accusingly in agreement.

The lines etched on my face are more noticeable now, the grays I've kept hidden account for the majority of my hair. My skin is dull and sallow, the elasticity and glow of youth long gone. Time has taken its toll on the young girl I used to be.

That girl dreamed of forever once upon a time. What a foolish, stupid girl – blinded by love and hope.

My body has changed, but my heart and mind have remained the same. The gaping hole in my chest has never healed; the cancerous scar tissue around its edges has only spread into my breasts, organs, and bones.

_This is what _you_ wanted for me_…

You_ wanted me to live a human life. Well, here it is, and the end is staring me in the face._

_I hope _you're_ happy now._

Who am I kidding? Thirty-four years have passed and I doubt that _he's_ ever given me a second thought. I'm the one who never could let go.

My senses play cruel tricks on me. Through the corner of my eye I catch a flash of bronze hair as I am walking through a crowded mall, shopping for the dress I will be buried in. I smell the scent of honey, lilacs, and sunshine. Goosebumps cover my flesh, and I shiver. My breath catches and my heart lurches as I turn toward the sound of a silky smooth voice followed by tinkling laughter, but no one is there. I shake my head to clear the disturbing thoughts and continue plodding through the mall.

I return my attention to my dress search and grumble to myself that _Alice_ would be able to pick out the perfect one.

Now I know that I'm losing my mind.

The saleslady helps me find a suitable dress for a fancy night on the town – she sure as hell doesn't need to know that it is intended to be my coffin attire – a little black dress that actually flatters what assets I have left. I find a pretty pair of black stilettos, and carry everything to the counter to make my purchase. I pay for my items with cash, a habit I developed during the early years of marriage, when we struggled to stay out of debt.

We no longer have to worry about our finances; we were taken care of the day we received a huge life insurance payment when Charlie passed away. It was enough to put both of our boys through college, pay off our mortgage and other debts, and have enough left over to save for retirement.

I've missed him so much in the two years he's been gone. I'm thankful that he got to spend so much time visiting with us after he retired from the Forks PD. He discovered a new love the day we took him deep sea fishing, and made the trip to the Gulf Coast as often as he could. The last two winters before he died, he and his wife Sue stayed with us the whole time. They were so happy together. Now they lie side by side forever in the Forks cemetery, since the car wreck that took them away so suddenly.

I ask the boys to take what they want from my belongings. The tears flow freely as we lovingly handle items that represent our lives, followed by laughter as we share the memories behind so many of the objects. I realize they are only things, but they all tell a story that I hope will be passed down to the next generation, and maybe even the generation after that.

They pause over Grandpa Charlie's fishing poles, lures, and tackle boxes. They were very close to him, and his absence affects them deeply.

I worry how they will deal with my absence.

My husband and I visit the local cemetery to pick our plot and headstone, and then on to the funeral home to purchase a coffin. I shudder with distaste at some of the ostentatious models and choose a simple one; I'm not picky about the box I'm to be buried in.

It's surreal, planning for my imminent death.

The days that pass become more difficult. The cancer residing in my lungs makes it hard to breathe and I am constantly short of breath. My body aches most of the time, but I try to spend my time as "normally" as I can. I've been compiling scrap books for my boys and my husband, and have written the stories associated with the pictures so they won't forget.

_He_ once told me that the human memory is like a sieve. But the holes only allow the inconsequential memories to pass through. The important moments — the significant moments that define a life — remain trapped forever, an intrinsic part of your heart, your very soul.

I never forgot. Not for one second.

I'm coughing, and it burns. There's moisture on my lips, and when I wipe it away I see my fingers stained red with blood. It won't be long now.

The pain increases, and despite my best intentions to keep my husband from worrying, I tremble violently, coughing up more blood in the process. He races to my side, where he sits nervously stroking my hair and my cheek. He yells for my oldest son to call an ambulance.

I wake up in a hospital bed, tubes and wires snaking across my chest and arms. It's been a while, but the sensation is familiar. After all, I've been in a similar position before.

My husband is sleeping in a plastic chair at my bedside, my free hand clenched tightly in his own. The irony isn't lost on me as I remember _his_ vigil at my bedside in an Arizona hospital so many years ago. _He_ had rescued me from James, whose sadistic attack had left me broken and battered. _He_ saved my body only to turn around months later and destroy my heart.

I hear Renee's voice along with my boys. They've just brought her from the airport. She smiles weakly, tears welling in her eyes as she sweeps my bangs off my forehead.

Now I am surrounded by the people who love me, the people I love. Why do I feel so poignantly the absence of _others_ that I love? How can it even matter anymore?

My eyes are closed and I am resting. The boys convince Renee and my husband to go downstairs to get something to eat in the cafeteria. A wave of pain wracks my body, but I can deal with it. This pain is nothing compared to the pain I felt when _he_ left me. I can handle this.

The night shift nurse comes in at the start of her shift to check my vitals, and through my cracked eye I see her frown as she looks at the readings on the equipment. She leaves quickly and I hear her calling to the doctor in the hallway. I strain to make out the faint sounds of a whispered conversation, but I can't understand the words.

A handsome, blond doctor enters the room and I gasp. My feeble, crazed mind is definitely playing tricks on me now. If I didn't know better, I would swear that Carlisle is standing at my side, sorrow marring his handsome face. He studies my chart, his honey-gold eyes glancing at the readings on the monitors, and then gently takes my hand in his. It's cold, and a shiver runs through me.

"I'll do what I can to ease the pain you're feeling," he says softly. "I'm so sorry, Bella."

The room is blanketed in silence for a few minutes, the beeping of the monitors the only sound.

"I still love him, you know. I never stopped. I did as he asked, lived a human life, but I never forgot him. He was always in my heart," I whisper, as a tear escapes and rolls slowly down my cheek.

"I know. I knew it then, when he told us that you would forget him and move on. I tried so hard to talk sense into him, to make him see that he meant as much to you as you did to him. We fought, Bella, worse than we had ever fought. But he's so stubborn, so full of self-loathing. He never could see the goodness that shines from him. You made it so much brighter, Bella. And when he left you, his light just… burned out."

"Do you have any idea where he is?" I ask hesitantly.

"I honestly don't know where he is right now. He stays with us for a while, but never for long. He leaves to check on you, and then it is ages before he visits us again."

"_What?_ He checks on me?" This is too much for me to comprehend.

"Yes, Bella. He's kept tabs on you ever since he left Forks. We were there when you got married, watching from a distance…" he pauses, remembering. "He told us when you had your boys, about every major event you've experienced. We've been so proud of you. He's proud of you."

"Why, Carlisle? Why does he bother? He told me he didn't want me anymore, that I was no good for him." My voice cracks, as the memories of that day threaten to drag me under, never to surface again. I'm shaking so hard, and the tears are streaming steadily now. The pain is making it difficult to concentrate.

"Bella, he loved you more than life itself. He still loves you. He thought that if he lied to you, it would be easier for you to move on, to forget about him. There can never be anyone for him after you entered his life. You are his life."

"Does he know I'm dying?" Part of me would rather he didn't know.

Carlisle sighs sadly. "Yes, he knows. It's killing him."

I wince, squeezing my eyes tightly now. I know that when I open them Carlisle won't be there — that I've been hallucinating this whole conversation. I have to face reality. I owe myself that much.

"Your family is coming now. I have to leave. Goodbye, Bella," he says, bending to place a kiss on my forehead, his voice echoing softly through the room as I feel a cool breeze caress my skin. I open my eyes and he is gone.

The pain medicine kicks in and I am soon unconscious.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I'm dreaming now.

In my dream, I'm running effortlessly through the forest, deep in the dark shadows of the leaves above, running toward a faint light in the trees ahead. I break through the last of the trees and I am back in the meadow. _Our_ meadow. Wildflowers are swaying gently, and the sunshine warms my smooth, bare skin.

Standing in the center of the meadow, gleaming like a million brilliant diamonds, is perfection personified. _He_ looks like an angel, so beautiful that my heart stutters, stops, and starts again. The smile on _his_ face warms me more than the sun, and the light shining in the soft gold of _his_ eyes takes my breath away.

_He_ reaches out to touch my face, and I lean into _his_ touch, relishing the feel of _his_ cool hand against my cheek. I wrap my arms tightly around _his_ waist, with every ounce of my strength, never wanting to let go. I've missed this. I've missed _him_ so very, very much.

"I love you, Edward."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Chapter song: "If I Could Change Your Mind" by the Alan Parsons Project. Remission playlist is available on YouTube under NoWayWithWords.


	3. Chapter 3 Realization

**Standard Disclaimer: ** The world of Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

_For Mom, I love you, and I miss you._

* * *

**Remission – Chapter Three - Realization**

I thought it would become easier with time and distance. I thought I could let her go – let her live her life without my interference, and I would be happy because she was.

I was wrong.

Carlisle argued with me. Alice screamed at me until her vocal cords were nearly shredded. They tried to convince me that I was making a horrible mistake, but I refused to see reason. The only truth I saw was the danger I posed to Bella by being a part of her life. I steadfastly believed that I could remove myself from her life, erase all traces of my existence.

I watched, my face hardened into an emotionless mask, as my blasphemous words cut through her like a knife.

"_You…don't…want me?_" she whispered, tremors running through her tiny frame.

_"No."_

I was such a fool.

I left Bella, crying out for me in the forest, and I ran as far and as fast as I could. It took everything I had not to turn around and run back into her arms, begging for forgiveness. I had to follow my conscience; I couldn't allow myself or my family to be a constant threat to her.

I met up with them in Ithaca, but I didn't stay long. My presence was a suffocating blanket of despair, and they deserved better. I left to find and end Victoria, so she could never harm Bella.

At first, my mission seemed like a never-ending wild goose chase. Every time I thought I was closing in on her, I would arrive to find that she had left days earlier, or that she hadn't been where I expected her to be at all.

When I finally traced Victoria back to northern California, I realized that she was too close to Bella for me to reach in time. I was in agony knowing that by leaving her alone and unprotected, instead of saving her I had effectively signed her death warrant. The pain of leaving her was nothing compared to the thought of losing her forever.

I couldn't live in a world where she didn't exist.

As I ran, I made my plans to end myself. I had told Bella previously about the Volturi, but I didn't want to bring Alice to their attention. With a single touch of Aro's hand, he would know everything about Alice and her ability to see the future. A collector of talented vampires, he would stop at nothing to have her as a member of his guard.

No, I would have to find another way, and the nearer to Forks I ran, the clearer my answer became.

_Wolves_.

Not typical wolves, but shapeshifting Quileutes, whose mutant genetics caused them to transform into giant wolves, capable of ripping a vampire apart… capable of ripping _me_ apart.

I could smell them all throughout Forks, and the scent became stronger as I approached Bella's house.

I recognized the young man standing barefoot and bare-chested at the treeline in Bella's yard as the great-grandson of Ephraim Black, the Quileute Chief who had agreed to a peace treaty with my family.

"What are you doing here, leech?" he growled through clenched teeth. His thoughts toward me were filled with hate. _If it weren't for the stupid treaty, I'd kill you where you stand, bloodsucker, and enjoy every minute of it_.

"I came because Bella was in danger. There is a vampire whose mate was killed by my family when he attacked Bella, and I am afraid she will seek vengeance by harming Bella," I answered, trying to keep my calm.

"Well you can turn around and head back to hell or wherever you came from, because she doesn't need your help," he spat. "You gave up the right to protect her when you left her alone and helpless in the woods." His mind's eye turned to the night that his friend carried Bella's slight form out of the forest, and I shuddered at the image.

More of his memories of Bella, gaunt and pale with vacant eyes, flooded my mind.

"STOP!" I snarled viciously.

"Besides, we killed that crazy redheaded leech not long after she showed up. She was harder to catch than the leech with the dreads, but it wasn't hard for us to deal with her when we did," he gloated, as he remembered the thrill of the pack dismembering and burning the pieces of Victoria.

_Bella doesn't need YOU_, he thought.

"Know this, Jacob Black. I won't interfere with Bella's life, but when her time on this earth comes to an end, so does mine. She is my _only_ reason for existing. I can't continue with her gone, and I will seek your help to end me."

"Gladly. You just show up whenever you want us to wipe you off the face of the earth, and we'll be happy to help your cause. But until then, stay the hell away from Bella. Leave. Now." He pointed toward the forest, away from Bella.

I turned and ran for a short time, until I was out of the range of his smug thoughts. I vowed then and there that I would stay out of Bella's way, but that I would always remain on the periphery of her life.

I was there when she started college, the day she moved into her dorm room at Washington State. She looked so lost, so forlorn… I wished with all my being that I could be there beside her, to hold and comfort her, to share the adventures to come.

I watched her make her way through each day, going to classes, interacting with her teachers and other students. I followed her one evening when she left her dorm and walked across campus to a fraternity house where a party was being held. My frozen heart shattered beyond any hope of repair as I saw her with one of the frat boys, pawing at her as she stumbled into his room, drunk beyond the ability to reason.

Blindly, I ran as fast as I could, not stopping until hours later, when I knew I was far enough away that I wouldn't be able to rip the vile boy into small pieces. I had never felt such a need for violence in all of my existence. I wanted to peel him apart, slowly, drawing out his suffering. I wanted to reduce him to an unrecognizable mass of flesh and bone fragments. I raged through the forest, slamming trees to the ground as I pounded them into sawdust with my fists. The wake of destruction I left in the forest looked like the crash site of a 747, minus the flaming wreckage.

I knew it would happen, that someday she would find someone to be with her in the way I would never have been able to, but it had always been hypothetical. Seeing it take place in reality felt like a grenade tearing through my chest. It shouldn't have been that way. Her first time should have been special, the gift of her virginity cherished and precious, like her. She should have been loved. Instead she was drunkenly violated, used, discarded and forgotten.

Masochist that I am, I returned and watched the next morning as she staggered back to her dorm, her face ashen and expressionless, and all I could do was lurk in the distance, unable to make anything right. The damage was done, and I held myself responsible. I had vowed not to interfere in her life ever again, and even if it killed me – as it seemed to be doing – I would uphold that promise.

Every once in a while, I would visit briefly with my family, but I always left quickly to return to watch over Bella.

When she graduated and moved across the country, I followed.

It was more difficult to keep an eye on her in a place where the sunny days far outnumbered the overcast or rainy ones, but I was always near.

When she started dating the man who would become her husband, I saw it coming. I didn't even need Alice's help, which she offered frequently. I willingly accepted any information she could provide to help keep Bella safe.

My feelings toward him were a dichotomy: I hated the man intensely, but I respected him more than any other human I'd ever known. He was intelligent, kind-natured, and had a good sense of humor that always made Bella laugh. He loved her deeply, even though he realized that part of her heart would remain forever closed to him. Through his eyes I saw the darkness in hers. He heard her cry in her sleep and wondered what had cut her so deeply that it continued to haunt her dreams.

_Me_.

_I_ did that to her, and I will hate myself for all eternity because of it.

He had asked Charlie once what had happened to her in the past, but Charlie just told him that it wasn't his story to tell, and he never felt comfortable asking Bella about it.

Still, together the two of them lived a good life. When they married in Forks, my family was there in the shadows, watching from afar as Bella pledged her life to someone who wasn't me. The pain was a thousand times more intense than the fire of my change, and never dulled.

_This isn't how it was meant to be_. _It was supposed to be you, Edward. _Alice's thoughts flickered through scenes of another wedding - one where a slightly younger, breathtakingly beautiful Bella walked down the stairs of our Forks home - to images of Bella and I surrounded by our family and friends, dancing under a tent in the backyard with a backdrop of twinkling lights strung from the trees. For an instant, I saw the two of us swimming in the warm waters along the shore of Isle Esme, and a flash of our bodies twined in the huge white bed, its gauzy curtains fluttering in the tropical breeze. A vision of Bella running beside me - her laughter ringing through the forest, her bright topaz eyes shining with joy - nearly brought me to my knees.

Alice looked up and her sad eyes met mine.

No.

It could never be.

Alice's thoughts faded as she turned away, and her mind filled with the view in front of us, of Bella and her new husband. The misery gnawed at my gut, and I turned away to leave.

_She'll be okay. She'll never be as happy as she would have been with you, but she'll be happy enough_, Alice reassured me.

Time moved on and I watched over Bella, always in the shadows, existing just outside the boundaries of her awareness.

I lived vicariously through her husband's thoughts; I saw her smile reach her eyes for the first time in years when she held their newborn son, heard her laugh as she celebrated his first unsteady steps. I felt the joy they shared over the birth of their second son, three years after his big brother. His pride in his wife and children became my own, and I marveled at the incredible person Bella had become as a woman, a wife, and a mother. She had accomplished so much in the years since I left her…

More time passed, and his thoughts eventually became filled with frustration, panic, and sorrow as she closed herself off, when they argued and grew distant. The always-increasing responsibilities of work and parenting had won the competition for their attention, and the stress took its toll on their neglected relationship. His fear that their time together was nearing an end consumed him.

I squelched my fantasy of sweeping into a divorced Bella's life before the thought could complete itself. Nothing good could come from that line of thinking…

I reaffirmed my vow to remain outside of Bella's human life and continued my observation from afar.

Bella and her husband met with a counselor, and slowly worked through their issues to strengthen their marriage. He admitted to himself that Bella would never belong wholly to him, but he was happy to have the part that did. What he refused to acknowledge was any jealousy of Bella's love for their sons, who she loved without reservation. He knew she would gladly give her life for theirs, but wasn't so sure if he rated the same concern.

The boys had a happy childhood. They loved and were loved immensely in return by their parents, and by anyone who knew them. They were precocious and outgoing, and excelled in baseball. They played on teams coached by their father, and eventually for their high school. After retiring from professional baseball, Bella's stepfather, Phil, worked with the boys whenever he and Renee visited. It was clear to me that they didn't inherit their athletic ability from Bella. Bella and her husband never missed a game, or any event that the boys were involved in.

Charlie and Sue came to visit often once he retired from his position as Forks' Police Chief. Bella was happy to have her father around again, and he doted on his grandsons. Charlie's thoughts were no easier for me to discern than they had been years before. I could read his general feeling of contentment, pride, and occasionally waves of concern for Bella, but seldom was I able to hear any specifics from his mind.

When he and Sue died suddenly in a car wreck, Bella was despondent. I worried that the depression would pull her under, and wished that I could, in some way, provide her comfort.

I did the only thing I was able to do under the circumstances. I contacted Jasper and had him quickly fabricate a hefty life insurance policy for Charlie, leaving Bella as his beneficiary. It would easily cover the cost of college for each of the boys, pay off the debts held by Bella and her husband, and leave them a comfortable income for their retirement. I knew that it did little to help alleviate her grief, but at least she would have peace of mind, financially. They had been struggling with student loan payments for their oldest, who would soon be graduating on the five-year plan, and the youngest, a sophomore.

It was a gift she unknowingly accepted with grace. I recognized the irony, remembering her aversion to even the smallest gifts. At least she was in no danger from the receipt of this one…

Now, two years later, she is leaving the doctor's office with a death sentence. One that I can do nothing to protect her from.

_Cancer_. Stage IV, highly aggressive, metastasized breast cancer, to be exact.

Months.

Not the long, healthy life I'd envisioned for her when I left.

She has refused any treatments that might prolong her life. My greatest fear is about to be realized, and there is nothing I can do but watch her fade away until she no longer exists, at which point I will cease to exist as well. I cannot live in a world without Bella.

Carlisle has offered to provide help to Bella in any way he can without her knowledge, and I am grateful for his support.

My heart fractures as I watch her health quickly deteriorate.

Alice joins me and we follow Bella through the shopping mall as she searches for something to be dressed in when she is laid to rest.

_I knew that dress would be stunning on her. I couldn't have picked a better one for her myself,_ Alice thinks, holding back a sob as Bella turns this way and that to get a better look at the elegant black dress in front of a three-sided mirror outside of the dressing room.

Even as sick and frail as she is, Bella is still the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. My chest clenches as I think of her lying in a coffin, still and pale, a Snow White waiting for her prince's kiss… only there won't be a fairytale ending with the characters living happily ever after.

Heaven awaits her arrival. I will simply disappear from existence.

Bella's life dwindles to weeks, days, and then hours.

Alice envisions the time of Bella's death, and Carlisle waiting at the hospital to ease her suffering. She hugs me tightly for the last time before I walk out into the dark with Jasper, who is nearly overcome by the constant onslaught of our grief.

It is Jasper who aids me in my mission to exit this world before Bella. He feels responsible for my leaving Bella in the first place - since his near-attack of her over a simple paper cut was the catalyst for my departure - and the guilt has eaten away at him. It will bring him a measure of peace to grant my wish to join her in death.

We drive away from civilization to find a remote location, a small clearing in the forest. Jasper builds a fire to incinerate my remains, as I allow memories of Bella to flood my mind. He remembers how happy I was during the all too brief time spent with Bella, and it brings a smile to my face. From behind, he grips me in a headlock, waiting for me to give him the signal to wrench my head from my body. As I close my eyes, it is her face I see, and with my last breath I whisper her name.

"I love you Bella."

..

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..

..

..

..

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..

There is no pain.

It is bright, and I am standing in our meadow, waiting.

..

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..

..

..

..

..

I hear a sound coming from the forest, and turn to see Bella emerging from the trees.

My heart swells with joy as she approaches. She is beautiful, and her brown eyes sparkle as I reach out to touch her youthful face, cupping my hand around her smooth, soft cheek. She wraps her arms around my waist and holds me tightly. I am whole again.

"I love you Edward."

"As I love you, my Bella."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Chapter songs: "Everything You Want" by Vertical Horizon, "It's Not My Time" by 3 Doors Down, and "The Ghost of You" by My Chemical Romance. Remission playlist is available on YouTube under NoWayWithWords.


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